


There You Are

by anexorcist



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Picnics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-10
Updated: 2013-04-10
Packaged: 2017-12-08 02:28:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/755929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anexorcist/pseuds/anexorcist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He raises the blanket and the basket in offering, and Tim’s answer gets stuck in his throat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There You Are

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jayeinacross](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jayeinacross/gifts).



> jayeinacross replied to your post: DAY 1 of ILU&TY 300+ FOLLOWERS  
> Congratulations on the 300 followers! Can I please prompt Jay/Tim picnic?

Just as Red Robin finishes his last sweep before the end of patrol, his comm crackles to life. He answers after landing smoothly on the next rooftop over. A smokey, just this side of mischievous voice fills his ear.

“ _Hey, where are you?”_

A smile lifts the corner of Tim's lips, chapped from the rough wind.

“You know you're not supposed to hack B's comms.”

The voice chuckles, low and sweet, and Tim's tongue swipes out to wet his dry lips. Despite the static interference from the communicator and the wind, the voice sounds real, like the lips it belongs to are just a hair's breadth from Tim's ear lobe.

“ _When has that ever stopped me?”_

“True,” Tim shrugs. “Apartment complex on the corner of Grand and Pine.”

Without so much as a goodbye, the call drops. The only sound that fills the night is the Bat-mobile's engine revving in the distance, getting quieter as Bruce and Damian head back to the Manor.

He could be back at his own apartment by now, too. Hot water pouring over sore muscles, breathing in the steam from his shower. But instead, he waits in the cold and for what? He doesn't even know, because he wasn't told.

Despite that, when he hears boots crunching on gravel behind him, the smile from earlier returns, claiming the other corner of his lips as well.

“I didn't keep you waiting, did I?”

“Jason,” Tim turns. His eyebrow quirks up curiously at the picnic basket he's holding and the blanket tucked carefully under his arm.

Jason approaches, face already bare, and with his free hand, he slides back Tim's cowl. Tim lets him.

“There you are,” he says and Tim pointedly doesn't blush. A fond smirk graces his lips, and Tim can feel it when they brush against his temple.

This is all fairly new to him – to  _both_  of them – but it isn't hard to resist his instinct to pull away from the affectionate touch. It was easy to learn how to coach his body language to ward everyone away. It's a different experience altogether to invite someone in without a word.

“What's that?” he gestures to Jason's loot.

The bigger man steps back, and Tim instantly misses the body heat that radiates off of him (he's always had an addictive kind of personality).

Jason ducks his head, becomes almost sheepish, and if Tim didn't get to see this side of him like he does now, he'd call it  _uncharacteristic_. But the thing is – the sweet and special and warms-his-heart thing – is that Tim (and  _only_  Tim)  _does_  get to see this side of Jason, and it's as characteristic as broodiness on the Bat, a shoulder squeeze from Dick, violence and Damian.

“Just making up for last week, since I had to cancel.”

He raises the blanket and the basket in offering, and Tim's answer gets stuck in his throat. There's a warmness in his heart that spreads to his belly and grows in his limbs like a tree branching out and blossoming.

“This is... okay, right?”

Tim nods, and Jason grins. He puts the basket on the ground and spreads the blanket for them to sit on.

When they're both finally seated, cross-legged and knees touching, Jason leans in to give him a proper kiss on the mouth. Tim kisses him back.


End file.
